


At The Edge

by BlueNeutrino



Series: A Hunter's Heart in an Angel's Hands [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Auscultation, Blindfolds, Cardiophilia, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Drug Use, Edgeplay, Heartbeat Kink, M/M, Stething
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNeutrino/pseuds/BlueNeutrino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting Dean high can make sex more fun. It can also make him ask for crazy - and risky - things. Cas indulges him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was going to start focusing on other things at some point soon, but...nah. I have a lovely muse who keeps inspiring me to write these.

Warm breath tickles his skin as soft lips trail kisses along his throat. They're light and gentle; there's no sucking or biting yet as Cas teases him with just the faintest of touches. It's meant to frustrate him. Already Dean has been deprived of one of his senses, the blindfold leaving him completely unable to see what Cas is doing, and the angel is refusing to speak so that Dean can hear nothing but his own breathing. It's coming more quick and ragged as the kisses turn into gentle nips, but still Cas holds off on touching Dean anywhere else on his trembling body. The hunter is completely naked, sitting upon a hard metal chair with his wrists bound behind him and his ankles strapped to the legs. His stiff cock protrudes from between his thighs, standing up to beg for attention from Cas which continues to be denied.

As the angel grazes his teeth along Dean's jaw, the hunter whimpers. His cock throbs and he squirms and wriggles his hips to almost plead with Cas to touch it. The angel lets out a sigh against his skin and then withdraws, and Dean is left wondering if he's going to continue at all before he at last feels the light touch of fingers running along his length. A moan slips past his lips, whining at how soft the touch is, and then Cas' thumb brushes more roughly over his tip and Dean yelps.

"Shh..." Cas whispers, letting his fingers slide slowly back down Dean's shaft to his balls and then up again. "Try not to make any noise."

After giving the order, his fingers once again leave Dean's skin, and Dean tries his hardest to obey. His heart has begun thumping hard in anticipation of what Cas will do next, and then he feels a firm touch pressing against his throat, perfectly poised to strangle him should Cas wish. Instead of clamping down hard, Cas' hands slide over his skin, steadily feeling and probing as they trace the outline of his arteries to detect his pulse. The hand touching the left of his neck moves away, and then Dean feels something cold and flat being pressed against his chest. He recognises that Cas is using a stethoscope.

Dean wants Castiel to comment on his heartbeat. He wants to hear something in approval about how good it sounds, or even a disappointed reprimand that it isn't fast enough, but Cas gives him nothing. After a few too short seconds, the cool disc is removed from his skin and Cas' fingers leave his neck, and Dean is left shaking with desire to feel them again. He stays silent, but listens intently to try to hear what Cas is doing, and then there's a faint hissing noise like the sound of air escaping from a punctured tyre. Dean has no idea what caused it, but then he senses movement in front of him and a hand returns to his neck as he feels something being pressed against his face. It's presumably an oxygen mask, covering his nose and mouth, and an unusual scent fills his nostrils as he inhales. Whatever gas is coming out, it isn't oxygen.

"Breathe this in, Dean," Cas orders, and Dean inhales deeply.

Immediately, his head begins to spin and he feels a sudden rush from whatever Cas had been holding up to his nose. In the darkness, colors begin to swirl in front of his eyes, and it feels like Cas' fingertips on his throat are doing a dance across his skin. Lightheadedness sweeps over him as euphoria floods his brain and the thumping in his chest grows more erratic. It feels fucking amazing.

"Whoa, wha' was 'at?" he slurs as the mask is pulled away again, feeling a very strong urge to giggle.

"It’s the something you asked for to make this a little more fun," Cas replies, and Dean can hear the amusement in his voice. Something's clearly funny, and so Dean laughs; a breathy, giddy noise that comes from high up in his chest. It occurs to him in a tiny, secluded corner of his mind that he's high on whatever Cas gave him, but the rest of him is one hundred percent okay with that.

An instant later, and he once again feels Cas touch his cock. The sensation is so heightened and intense that he gasps, mumbling something incoherent as he squirms in the seat. Cas has hold of him firmly and gives him a steady stroke. "How do you like that, Dean?" the angel asks, but all Dean is able to do in reply is whimper.

He can still see nothing but the swirls of color on the back of his eyelids, but he senses that Cas is moving. His body feels like it’s floating and he can’t really tell what’s going on around him, but then a new sensation envelops his cock and he nearly screams. Hot moistness from Cas' mouth closes over his tip, a tongue laps at his slit, and then Cas pulls back a little and runs his lips all the way up and down Dean's length. He nibbles and sucks gently at the taut skin, taking a moment to kiss Dean's balls when he reaches the base, and then licks a stripe back up to the head again. Dean moans and writhes, completely coming apart underneath the angel's skilful mouth.

Cas chuckles. He pulls his mouth away again, much to Dean’s dismay, and then Dean once again feels the cold dome of the stethoscope press against his chest. He whines. “No…Cas, please…more…”

“You can have more, Dean,” Cas whispers. “But I want to hear your heart first.”

“Cas…” Dean moans again. The pounding inside him is crazed and erratic, and it feels like his ribcage is shaking with the force of each beat. Cas is entranced by it, but Dean finds it irritating and distracting. “It’s trying to get out,” he complains. He isn’t entirely lucid, but his heart does indeed feel like it’s trying to burst out of its chest.

“No it isn’t, Dean,” Cas replies calmly. “It’s just beating very hard.”

“Make it stop.”

“That wouldn’t be good for you, Dean.”

“Please, Cas.”

There’s a pause, in which the angel seems to be weighing up Dean's request, and then Cas says, “Alright.”

The stethoscope leaves Dean’s chest again and Cas’ hands return to his neck. “I’m going to slow it down,” the angel explains, fingers probing the arteries in Dean’s throat. “That means I have to compress these arteries and this nerve here. This may be a little uncomfortable, Dean, but keep trying to breathe. Deep and steady, if you can.” Dean doesn’t quite have time to ready himself before Cas’ fingers tightly clamp down on his throat. His trachea isn’t entirely obstructed, although sucking in air has become much more difficult and he’s forced to breathe slowly as each breath whistles thin and raspy down the narrow pipe. Most of the pressure is on his carotid arteries, Cas squeezing them tightly while his fingertips dig into a pressure point, and Dean feels his head begin to swim even more violently. He thinks he might pass out, and almost wants to if it means he’ll get the oxygen deprived rush in those final few seconds of consciousness, but he doesn’t want to miss the rest of the show.

The restriction of blood supply to his brain and the rocketing blood pressure in his neck are having the desired effect, and the rapid thudding of his heart is gradually slowing down. Each beat is starting to feel sluggish and heavy, and his entire chest echoes with the noise. After several long seconds, Cas eases up the pressure and gently supports Dean’s head as it flops down onto his chest, his heart rate much calmer but no less trippy.

“There,” Cas mutters, “Does that feel better, Dean?”

Dean grunts.

Taking that as a yes, Cas continues. “Good. You need to tell me if it becomes uncomfortable again. Now let’s get back to other things…”

Whatever he’d been about to do, Dean interrupts him. “You said you’d make it stop.”

Cas hesitates. “Dean?”

“I told you to make my heart stop, and you said ‘alright’.”

There’s another pause during which Dean can feel Cas’ breath on his face, and he tries to imagine the way the angel is looking at him right now. Dean's gets the impression that he has reservations about what Dean just suggested. “I gave you too much,” Cas murmurs regretfully. “Your mental state is compromised. I think maybe we shouldn’t go any further.”

Dean is lucid enough to understand that. “No, Cas, don’t…” he immediately protests.

Cas sighs concernedly. “Dean, you do understand that if your heart stops, you die?”

Dean nods.

“Is that what you’re asking me to do to you?”

Dean doesn't really know. He isn't in a state to rationalise anything at the moment, but he can still feel his heart thumping too hard and he likes the thought of Cas getting it under control. It doesn't really occur to him there's a risk. High or not, he knows he's safe with Cas. “Just for a moment. You’re an angel, right? You can do that.”

Cas pauses then. Even when he’s off his head on drugs, Dean still trusts Cas completely. He just perhaps doesn’t quite realise what he’s asking. “Are you sure, Dean?”

“ _Yes_ , Cas.” He sounds impatient.

Another beat, and then Cas gently touches the side of Dean’s face. “Just for a couple of seconds, Dean,” he says, and then his fingers slide back down to Dean’s throat and the stethoscope returns to his chest, monitoring his heart. “If I squeeze this nerve here,” Cas says, digging his fingers in slightly, “It will stop your heart. I’ll restart it again after ten seconds. You may or may not lose consciousness, but if you do I’ll wake you back up. Do you understand, Dean?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Okay,” Cas whispers gently, and then Dean feels the angel’s lips press against his as fingertips simultaneously dig hard and painful into his throat. For a brief second he’s lost in the euphoria of Cas kissing him, the thrill sending a rush to his brain that makes his heart thump harder again, but then he feels the muscle flutter and fall still. Dizziness sweeps over him and he could almost swear he’s left his body, if it weren’t for the fact he’s completely overwhelmed by the feel of Cas’ lips on his and the unnerving stillness in his chest. His cock immediately starts to soften from the drop in blood pressure, and it leaves behind a thrilling tingle between his legs. The few seconds it lasts for feel like an age as consciousness almost slips away from him, but then Cas’ fingers ease up and slide down to rest against his collarbone, and Dean feels his heart kick back into life. The rhythm is stronger than before; steadier, healthier. He feels a little more grounded as he realises how much care Cas was taking with him, then a sudden, fresh wave of ecstasy washes over him as blood flow resumes to his brain. It’s a high unlike anything he’s ever felt.

“How are you feeling now?” Cas asks softly, pulling his lips back from Dean’s by just a fraction of an inch.

Dean smiles, a blissed out, dopey grin that isn’t entirely to do with the drugs in his system. “Amazing, Cas.”

“Good,” Cas murmurs, kissing him softly again. “Then if you’re feeling more comfortable with your heart, would you mind letting me do something to make it race again?” He mumbles the question into Dean’s skin as he starts to moves his mouth over Dean’s jaw and then trails it down across his throat and chest, moving further south with each kiss and lick he delivers. Realising where he’s going, Dean's cock starts to perk up again and he grins as he thinks that this time, he wouldn’t mind that at all.


End file.
